I miss my reading habit

and I blame myself for not keeping it up - Issue #01

In 2023, I read 70% less books than I did on average in the previous years. 

I’ve read 2 books in 2024 so far, and half the year has gone by. 

Hi!

What a strange feeling it is to stop doing something I find very enjoyable and blame imaginary obstacles I create for myself. I am fully aware that the hurdles are just a few centimeters tall, that I can step right over them with extreme ease, and yet, here I am, admitting to making no effort to overcome this. Well, maybe writing about it is my unconscious (and now conscious?) way to stop being silly and just go read a damn book.

I can think of reasonable explanations for why I read more books in 2019-2022. I won’t go into it, but I’ll just say those were times when I had more time (and willpower). When I ask myself what happened during the last two years, I have a few theories. 

📖 #1. I can’t find books that I fall in love with. If a story or a character can’t hold my attention and curiosity, I lose interest and leave the book for later. I prioritize other activities. I just couldn’t care less about finding out more.

I could return the book to the shelf, of course, and start the next one. But something inside me doesn’t let me do that. I have a mental block that doesn’t allow me to abandon an unfinished book. I feel like I owe it to the author, to the characters. Truth is, no one will know if I read it, if I didn’t, if I liked it, hated it, or loved it so much I read it twice. I don’t have to tell anyone anything. 

No one is making me finish my reading or have a formed opinion on what I read, I know. But there’s a little voice inside my head that doesn’t allow me to feel the like a failure for not finishing a book. 

🔦 #2. Ever since I moved to my current apartment two years ago, I haven't had a lamp on my bedside table, or a light switch for the big light near the bed. Yep, it’s an incredibly simple problem to solve. The negative reward of getting up to turn off the light is stronger than the positive reward of reading before bed. Wow, writing this was so sad. 

📱 #3. Maybe the most obvious and most common reason, and definitely the hardest to overcome, is my addiction to my phone. Mostly Instagram, that doesn’t require any brainpower, just a funcional thumb. 

I spend countless hours watching reels, checking how many miles I’d need for a weekend getaway, looking at my bank statement, searching what else the actor of the show I’m currently watching has been in, researching the best hotel in some Asian country (and whether I agree, based solely on website images), double-checking when the next public holiday is, cyber-stalking that couple I heard broke up to try to find out why, looking at my calendar to see what meetings I have tomorrow, writing my to-do’s… it’s a never-ending list.

My quest for constant stimulation may be caused by anxiety, or, who knows, by a reason much simpler than that; the fact that we’re used to always having any information in the universe in the palm of our hands in a matter of seconds. My phone really is an extension of my body—and my brain—and I’ve been trying to keep it away from me, literally, so that I’m not tempted to use it.

After writing about this and letting it all out, I realized how we (me, in this case, but I figure you too sometimes) create pathetic excuses not to do something. It’s even more ridiculous because it’s something I’d like to do. Or I think I would.

No, I’m sure. I would like to read more. 

I’m currently stuck in the middle of two books. If you’ve read either of them, please tell me if I should finish it or move on to the next one.

The Secret History by Donna Tartt

102/629 pages read

Two intellectual friends whom I trust very much told me they loved this book. One of them has read it twice. It’s by a prized author. How could I not love it? Every time I try giving it another chance, I immediately forget about it. 

The Paris Apartment by Lucy Foley

66/356 pages read

I bought this book at LAX on my way back from a work trip in March. It made great company during the two flights home. I haven’t touched it since.

Have you gone through something similar? Not just with reading, but with any other activity you enjoy, and yet create imaginary obstacles to avoid it at all costs?

If so, we’re in this together. If not, please teach me your ways.

Um beijo,

GaLeal

🇮🇹 In the first issue of Always More to Visit, out on Tuesday, I will write about my recent trip to Rome and Salerno.